Pokémon Renegade
by Capybara 773
Summary: When a Pokémon finds themselves beneath the cruellest of Pokémon Trainers, all they can do... all they can become... is a Pokémon Renegade. A REMAKE OF POKEMON TRAINER / May have rating changed to M in future
1. Pokédex Entry

**Salve~! It's Cappy here, tapping away at the keyboard once again for you.**

**This story is a remake of my popular 'Pokémon Trainer' story. Just before the time of writing, a good friend of mine brought up that I'd mentioned the possibility of a remake, so here it is.**

**However, this isn't quite the same story as the one I've left behind. Like me, many old fans will be rediscovering the story of Rain, and if you're new, I hope you like it too.**

**For the fans, many of the story's classic elements will remain, but with a revamped cast that'll keep the story rocketing along, and a few fresh ideas that'll take some by surprise (although I've left a few cookies in there for my most avid readers). I'm really glad you guys still know I exist, and are still interested in reading of Rain's adventures~!**

**For the newcomers, I can promise an action packed story of a Pokémon struggling against the odds in a world similar but different to the one we've played in the games.**

**To everyone, please enjoy. And review. Reviews are nice ^_^**

**Chapter 1: Pokédex Entry **

**No POV**

A revolution is a storm. People love clear, calm days, but seldom are they untroubled by wisps of cloud, drifting like smoke from the embers of the night upon which that blazing blue sky is founded. Clouds gather, struggling against one another amid the thunderous murmurs of the downtrodden. And with a flash, the revolution destroys the peace of the earth, rain pattering as the armies of those who preside and those who rebel march, their lightning blades seeking one another.

A storm rolled over Hoenn, and deep within the forest, where Ariados weave their venomous ploys and Golbats nestle in great, shivering flocks amongst the trees, a family of Pikachu huddle within the hollow of a tree. The eldest, the father of his litter, peers out into the downpour, while the mother corners herself in the wood, three Pichu nestled at her belly.

Two of them shift uncomfortably, but the third purrs blissfully, one of his ears twitching slightly as his mind soaks in the calm tempo pattering against the tree. The old bark creaks, the wind sighing as it whispers through the leaves laden with dew.

The hollow is filled with a wholesome, glowing warmth, but the father shivers, his canary-yellow fur matted with windswept drizzle. He shakes himself free of some of the moisture, and is about to turn to head to a bed of dried leaves, when something gleams in the darkness.

The Pikachu turns, and eyes the spot in the bushes more intently. Two pinpricks of red light, gazing balefully out into the darkness. The closer he looks, the more he feels that the light is watching him. The light shines brighter for a split second, and the Pikachu ducks out of sight for a split second. The lights had looked into his soul.

He is about to hiss a warning to his family, when something thudded into the tree, and the mother jumps, a sudden worry spreading across her face, then a wave of terror, as she sees the father's terror stricken face. The Pichu huddle to her arms more closely now, the one who was sleeping now looking groggily up at the father.

CRUNCH!

The family screeches in terror, all except for the mother.

(My babies.) She wheezes tearfully, trying to keep the pain from showing. The pain from a blow that had already killed her. (Run.)

(Mamma?) One of the Pichu trembles, shuddering on his feet. The other Pichu, now fully awake, stumbles back, as he sees the growing patch of red spreading down his mother's front, from a protrusion of bone that had lanced through her back.

They shriek as the mother is torn from them, thrown out of their home into the gaping darkness. One of the Pichu had doubled over, foaming at the mouth, the other simply toppling over, whimpering faintly. The only one that remained standing began to cry, shrinking back against the wall away from a monster that was now easing its head into the hollow.

(Found you.) Its voice oozed, its black eyes gleaming, eyeballing the standing Pichu. The father, recovering his senses, launched himself forward, delivering a powerful slap with his tail to the intruder, sending it flying out of the hollow.

(Find somewhere to hide!) He cried, as he leaps out of the hole after the monster, his paws crackling with energy.

But only one Pichu had the senses to get up out of the hole. The monster was looking for him, he was sure. He clambered up to the entrance to the tree and tumbled out, grazing his back against the bark and thumping into the soft, damp dirt. Thunder rumbled overhead, and the wind had picked up to a gale that threatened to carry him from where he stood.

Staggering, his head still spinning from the shock, the Pichu stumbles around the tree, forgetting what he was supposed to be doing, his mind absorbed by fear. Something catches his ankle, and he squeals. Eyes shut, he sends lightning jolts fizzing off in all directions, wailing as each jolt he sends laces pain back towards him. Shaking, he finally opens them, finds that a tree root had snagged him.

Now he can barely hear the wind over his own thread-bare breath. Eyes twitching this way and that, he finds a patch of yellow in the bushes. All caution blown to the shaking leaves, he scurries over, coming to a halt to clutch his mother's hand.

He clasps it between his, trying to squeeze the warmth from it. The Pichu had seen dead before; the shell of an Ariados, a Taillow swathed in Spinarak webs and drained of its juices. But nothing so brutal. Nothing so close to his heart.

His cheeks are soaked in rain and tears, a patch of blood mixed with the downpour to trickle onto his nose and chin, he sobs. Then, for one brief, hideous moment, one of his dead mother's eyeballs rotates to gaze at him.

The Pichu stumbles back, crashing into the monster. He twists round and sees the silhouette of it against the flashes of sheet lightning. A shaggy row of spines across its back. Glittering black eyes. Claws now caked in the blood of two.

A vicious Pokémon from the neighbouring mountains. A Sandslash.

The Pichu doesn't wonder why it's here. His mind is so far gone that he doesn't care. All he sees is the back of the claw whipping out and smashing him across the cheek, leaving two red streaks across it. The son, marked by the blood of his parents.

Dazed by the blow, he only starts scrabbling to get up when a cage of hot lightning engulfing him. He feels as if his every nerve is frying, his heart boiling in his chest.

Then in a flash, the Pichu is gone, replaced by a sphere of red and white. The Sandslash pauses, and then looks to the bushes. A human steps out, wearing a navy rain poncho. A young man in his teenage years, his eyes are hooded from sleepless nights of training and studying, and stubble chases his chin.

He gets out a small umbrella, shaking the hood he was wearing off his lank hair. Predators of the night be damned, he thought; HE was the one to be feared.

He steps calmly over the Pokéball and stows it away in his duffle bag. He hears a beeping from a wallet-sized device in his pocket and picks it out.

A Pokédex. A rich kid's toy, but he uses it anyway. He flips it open and reads the text:

_Pichu_

_Tiny Mouse Pokémon_

_The electric sacs in its cheeks are small. If even a little electricity leaks, it becomes shocked._

_Do you wish to give this Pokémon a name?_

_**OK**__**Cancel**_

_Note: It is recommended that the Trainers with many Pokémon give simple names that denote Elemental Type, for easy reference._

The boy slides a stylus out of the Pokedex and hovers it over the touch screen, before tapping okay. A keyboard slides onto the screen, and he hits four letters.

R a i n

Any revolution is a storm. And every storm begins with Rain.

**And that's the chapter~!**

**Its been so long since I've written Pokémon Trainer styles that I'd forgotten what it's like. Action to action, with a brutal underlying nature, it really is fun.**

**I'd just finished this chapter after playing a bit of FEAR 3 (an Xbox 360 game) and man did that get me pumped to write.**

**Anyway, each chapter I can I'm listing a character's or place's theme song at the end of the chapter they are introduced, so here's Rain's:**

**Rain as a Pichu – **_**Butterflies and Hurricanes**_** by **_**Muse**_

**Have a listen, and think of a little Pichu and the challenges he has yet to face.**

**Arrivederci~!**

**~Cappy**


	2. Black Button

**Salve~!**

**It's Cappy again, following through on his promise for a chapter a week (it's a new precedent for me, I assure you), and continuing the story of a little Pichu as he grows to become a Pokémon Renegade.**

**Before I kick things off, I'd like to thank everyone reading this story, and especially my reviewers. It may be the writer who makes the fic, but often it's the reviewers that give them the support they need. I hope you all enjoy Chapter 2~!**

**~Cappy**

**P.S. I'm trying out writing the Pokémon species first letters as not-capitalised, so 'Pichu' will become 'pichu'. Please let me know if you prefer it this way, or the way I did it before.**

**Chapter 2: Black Button**

**Rain's POV**

I hit the ground running, skid-diving against a door frame. Two magnemite drones hummed around the corner. Electricity flowed hot into my fingertips. I gritted my teeth, bearing the pain, and as I rounded the corner, I unleashed two torrents of electrical power into the pair of drones, blasting their metal organs out their glass eyes.

They'd barely hit the floor when I was moving again, heading to the opposite door. My foot stubbed against one of the smoking magnemite frames and I tripped, thumping my bruised knee for the second time that day.

I turned myself over off my front to examine it. The fur was scuffed and grimy, and memory reminded me of the weeks of bruising and scratches it covered, whilst the fur on my knuckles were frayed, bloodied and charred from every day of training I'd faced since I'd been captured.

The heart of my life had been torn out, leaving only tatters and an empty shell of memories. A rainy winter had ticked over to spring, and the heavy sun of summer was pressing its weight on me. I only saw it when we were taken outdoors into the grounds of our master's estate (a word I'd learned from our master, and one I'd had little pleasure using).

'We' meant four of us; a shinx, an emolga, a minun and myself. At first we numbered ten, all of us young; not even adults, and all of us electric types. We were taken, two by two, to a dingy basement, and made to hold a metal cord in each hand with orders to release all of our electricity into it.

A test to measure our power, our master said. We were too scared to refuse.

The 'winners' went back to their Pokéballs. The losers were never seen again. A day later, we met up again, and it was then that were given our names. I was called Rain.

Then we were given training; hours of running in the grounds of the estate. Days spent punching and kicking sandbags till our muscles were knots of sinew, and firing off countless bolts of lightning till each blast kicked our arms. Each morning we were given a regimen of painkillers alongside breakfast served to us on a sterile tray by a metang. There was always too little, and the rule was first come, first serve.

And each night, one of us had our dreams invaded by a gengar, turning our nightmares into a battle simulation were we fought off tides of unrelenting foes.

One of us five tried to escape; an elekid whose energy was spent weeks before. Within twenty minutes, we were hearing his shrieks amid the chilling howls of the estate's Mightyena pack.

The food was cut down accordingly. Training desisted for one day, although I think that was to allow us to realise how helpless we were, rather than out of a sense of grief and mercy.

And a month ago, we were put into these obstacle courses, some underground and some out on the estate. In either case, we would be thrown into bizarre weather conditions, sometimes being drenched in a torrential downpour, or a swirling sandstorm. Once, I had the labour of fighting my way through a harsh blizzard, meeting the metang butler at the end caked in snow and frost to be given a musty old blanket.

Sometimes we were given little individual concessions like that. Sometimes food and medicine, or a scrap of old clothing to keep us warm, or even just a shiny toy. We'd steal and share them according to who we happened to trust. Right now, I was in an agreement of sorts with the minun, a fiesty lad named Volt.

Right now, he was in an obstacle course, same as me. We all were.

"_Rain!" _The loudspeakers cried. _"Ignore that injury, and proceed with the mission!"_

I looked up at the camera and gave it a salute before pulling myself to my feet. Back to the action.

Beyond the door I could hear another drone. It was the last room. I took a few steps back, charging my electricity and shaping it into a rough, crackling sphere, before charging at the door, kicking it open and sending the ball careening into the magnemite, knocking out its sensors.

I came to a smooth landing, while the magnemite whizzed about, slamming into the walls and buzzing pipes and boxes as it tried to track me down. The sight gave me some small measure of amusement.

I ignored the magnemite now, going to the final door. Remembering the door handle, I leapt up and grabbed it, hanging on until the door swung upon.

On my first day on the obstacle course, I'd almost a full hour trying to reach it. My master didn't care enough to have it opened for me.

Once it was open, I dropped down and walked on through, entering the targeting range, placed firmly in the targets side. The door swung shut behind me like it always did. But this time there was no metang to greet me.

Suddenly the lights dimmed, and a range of torches burst to life, painting the range in a harsh yellow light. Targets slid up out of slots in the floor and began gliding across the range on silent tracks.

Instinct overtook me, and I leapt onto the back of a moving target.

Then the loudspeakers hailed me.

"_Your life is in danger. To win is to survive! Kill your enemy to complete the mission!"_

As soon as I heard that, my mind flicked over to tactics mode. I'd been put through simulations like this before, where I've been locked in a room before and made to face an unseen enemy.

The most challenging of them, it pitted me against kinds of Pokémon I'd never dreamed to exist, and as I fought, I learned about them. What are their strengths? What are their weaknesses? Which muscle to I hit with electricity to stifle their blow?

Each of us had faced a multitude of kinds. Some of our experiences we shared. Some, we kept secret. Just in case we needed that hidden advantage.

In each scenario, the opponent, the opponent could always pinpoint my location, but that was always with the nightmarish dream logic that never let you run away from your fears.

After a few minutes, a bolt of electricity rocketed out into the targeting range, hitting a target and bursting its plastic chest apart, and then another, incinerating the target. By then, I'd grown a fair sense of where my enemy was, so I dropped down, a few jolts pulsing out of one of my palms and into the darkness.

The back wall lit up, where my bolts hit, but I saw no trace of my attacker. Then suddenly, a shadow lunged out, streaking through the air towards me, its paws glowing with a lethal energy before I caught sight of them.

I dived under the shadow, its claws raking my ears, singing fur and skin. In reply, a storm was unleashed upon my foe, and the Pokémon was lit up, howling in agony as the sphere of lightning around it boomed and crackled. Then in a flash, the sphere was gone, and the Pokémon flopped onto the concrete.

A breathed a sigh of relief. My head pounded, and my hands wracked with pain. I swayed on my feet, struggling on my feet to maintain balance against the sudden onset of fatigue. I'd sent all my power into that blast, with a prayer on my lips that it would hit.

My ears experienced a sudden rush. I found myself on all fours and retching, but now I could hear the whimpers of my foe. The Pokémon twitched now and then, crying each time as it tried to collect itself. But it could not. It was a small creature, little bigger than I. From here I caught the scent of charred flesh.

As I staggered over, the dimmed lights came to life again, revealing my enemy. The fur on his mousy body had been burned into its flesh, which was now pitted and cracked like desiccated mud, exposing rivulets of blood. The membranous wings which draped from its wings were crumpled, burnt paper now, for all the good they'd do him.

(Rain,) The emolga croaked, sobs trailing on his breath. (Don't kill me. HE set us against each other.)

(Sparks... goddamn it.)

I knew at once that I couldn't kill him. Looking at his pitiful body, I knew enough damage had been done.

"_What's wrong, Rain? Your opponent is still alive. Your mission is not over."_

I glared up at the camera, a tear rolling down my cheek. This was too much. II turned my head up to the camera, and in my darkest voice, I snarled, (NO.)

"_Finish your opponent, Rain! I'm ordering you to pull the plug on that sad sack of shit!"_

I howled. A lance of energy flew through the camera's eye, burning a hole that you could fit a stick through. (LEAVE US ALONE!)

"_So that's how it is. You're disappointing." _The loudspeaker sighed. _"I'm coming down there."_

(Screw you.) I spat.

(Thanks.) Sparks coughed. He managed an ugly grimace of a smile that melted my heart to miserable tears. (And I'm sorry I attacked you. If I'd known it was you...)

(I know. But we're strong now. We can take him on.)

(Well, you can.)

(I'll make sure it's enough.)

I heard a door open out onto the range, and I whirled around. It was our master. I flicked my wrist, sending a bolt flying towards his skull. He batted it aside with nary a thought, a smirk playing on his cold, pallid face.

"That won't work, Rain. Not so long as I hold your Pokéball."

He fetched a red-and-white orb from his pocket. Twirling it, tossing it between his hands, he smiled, "They're funny things, these Pokéballs. They were originally storage capsules, you know, but with some ancient, obscure technology, they now let one dominate another being's existence."

(FUCK. YOU.) I growled. I knew he couldn't understand my words, but I think I made my point clear.

"Little Rain, I know you want to fight back, but there's simply no way. As it is, this is the most vulnerable I've allowed myself to be before you, and you can't even touch me. You are just a tiny pichu. While me?" He sneered, twisting the white button from the sphere's side, "I am a Trainer."

He revealed a black button on the ball, and with a cruel grin, he pushed it. A sickly pop sounded behind me, and my back was sprayed with some gooey slime. My head span. I turned, looked upon Sparks. His eyes were closed, and his torso had become a gruesome, gaping hole.

His heart had been blown out of his chest.

Disbelieving, trembling, I looked back at my master.

"Messy." He chuckled. "But you get the idea. Clean up and head to the mansion basement for reassignment."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

**And that concludes the chapter! I kept it short, but next chapter will be where things will hopefully start to kick off, and will also mark the first real departure from the story established in Pokémon Trainer. And I hope you'll all be returning to read it~!**

**Since the chapter's short, the theme tune included is short. And loud. And metal-ey. Kinda like the chapter. Heh. ^_^;**

_**Firing Range – Six Shooter – Queens of the Stone Age**_

**Ciao~! And please review 3**

**~Cappy**


	3. Sons of Rats

**Hey, it's Cappy here with the next chapter of Pokémon Renegade! In this chapter we'll get to meet a few of the characters who are central to this story, and a few of whom may be remembered from 'Pokémon Trainer'.**

**In any case, read on! And I hope you enjoy.**

**Chapter 3: Sons of Rats**

**Rain's POV**

I drifted into the room, my mind buzzing hazily. I could barely think, scarcely even considering the tub of warm water that sat in the room before I tumbled in. I wanted to drown in there for a few pitiful seconds, but I just floated on top, blinking wearily.

Sparks was dead. I couldn't move myself from that fact. I'd wanted to think I'd grown used to death, but I was still just as pitiful as I was all those months ago.

A Minun's face swam into my tear-blurred vision. (Is Sparks dead?) He asked me calmly. I murmured a small affirmation. He nodded slowly, his unflinching gaze reassuring me. (Then it's just us two.)

He stood by me. Neither of us knew what to say. Lots of emotions that I feared to speak broiled in my head, and I knew my companion shared them. Instead, I settled on something else that nagged my swirling thoughts.

(Did he tell you to go to the mansion basement as well?) My voice quavered.

(Yeah.)

Letting my feet touch the bottom of the wooden bucket, my hands ran across my shoulders, down my arms and the back of my legs, rubbing them gingerly as I tried to wash the blood off. Something touched me, and I calmed myself when I realised it was just Volt, washing the blood and splattered viscera off my back.

It was a moment of grief for both of us. First we were ten, and now we were two. The last. The strongest. The princes atop a throne of bone.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

We wandered down the garden path, feeling a little more refreshed and aware; the midday sun glaring down upon us. We went unchallenged, when before we had to be escorted by a pair of surly Houndoom, and for the first time, I really allowed the grand scale of the mansion to take hold of me.

Droplets of water, shimmering like gemstones, sprayed out from a legion of sprinklers, adorning the flower gardens with dew. Roselia danced amongst the roses and orchids, trimming leaves and plucking weeds in their daily ceremonies, and before us loomed a grand, old mansion, painted a sandy yellow with a blue-tiled roof, and guarded by an old, crusty statue of a Gyarados that rose up of a sea-green fountain, water gushing from its gargantuan throat.

The wings of the mansion we spread like an enormous Golbat, with one wing buzzing with the menagerie of Pokémon that attended to the estate's life, and the other wing deadly calm, save for a gathering of human ladies that chatted and lunched on one veranda, all of them dressed in light, floral garments.

We made our way to the front doors of the mansion, a great white maw embellished with brass domes that I could use as a full-body mirror, had I the nerve to take one. One of the doors was ajar, but as we were about to make our way through, we were halted by an absolute mountain of a man, dressed in a black suit and dark sunglasses. He was flanked by a Machoke (I had the simulations to thank for that identification), who was dressed similarly.

Both looked uncomfortable in the heat, and the Machoke was constantly dabbing his sweaty brow with his sleeve.

"I'm going to need to ask for some identification from you two." He said, his trunk-like leg shifting to bar Volt and I from entry.

Volt and I looked between one another. I gave a shrug which he returned. Being the most diplomatically skilled out of the two of us, I piped up, (Our names are Rain and Volt. Our master sent for us. We're supposed to go to the basement, I think.)

The man's brow furrowed quizzically, and he turned towards the Machoke.

"I thinks they are thuh two thuht Jay-cub sent for." The Machoke grumbled, butchering the human language with his guttural tones.

"All right," The guard said to us. "Go inside and turn left. Take the second set of stairs leading downward, and once you hit the bottom, tell the guard to let you in. I'll radio ahead to let him know you're coming."

He let us on through, and I saw him talk into a wired button on his shirt collar. We walked through into the atrium. The hall was one big dome, the inside of the mouth to the front door's teeth. Two grand staircases ran up the cheeks, which had two cavernous corridors running through each of the wings of the house, and above us hung a gigantic chandelier, like an ornate, swollen tonsil, while the atrium's ceiling was a mural was of an orb of blues and greens (what Volt referred to as 'the Earth'), with a ring of beings around it, all chasing the ones before them.

And on a plinth in the centre of the hall sat an old telephone set. Humans used these to contact one another, according to the late Sparks, although this particular set didn't seem to be in use by anyone at the moment. Contrary to that, a pair of little girls played around it, while a Rattata bedecked in ribbons was being chased by a ball of fluff about my size.

Seeing us, the two Pokémon rushed over.

(Hi what's your name?) The Rattata squeaked.

(I'm Rosie the Lillipup! But you can call me 'Rosie the Lillipup'!) The puffball yapped, to which the Rattata giggled.

I gave a false laugh, pretending I understood the humour in the joke, before offering my hand. A common courtesy across many cultures in the world, my father told me once. (I'm Rain. And this is my friend, Volt.)

(Can I call you the Pichu Bros?)

(No,) Volt snapped. (I'm a **Minun**, not a Pichu!)

Volt's fists were clenched, and his eyes narrowed to angry slits. The first time I mistook him for a Pichu, he burnt my blanket to a crisp. I didn't ask why, simply apologising and trusting that it was a sensitive issue for him.

The two Pokémon, utterly oblivious to Volt's ire, chimed, (You two smell! Smelly! Smelly!)

It was then that the two girls noticed us. "Get away from our Pokémon, you mean rats!" They cried, and they started saying things like, "Kelly, use Tail Whip!" and "Rosie, beat them with Tackle!"

The two Pokémon didn't seem to understand what they were saying; they probably weren't even listening, but I'd decided by then that it was time to move on. I took Volt's hand in my own, and started walking away, Volt trailing behind me and casting glares at the company we'd just left.

As soon as we were out of earshot, he hissed to me, (Can we go back and punch them?)

(No.)

Silence. A second later, (Then can you wait here while I go back and punch them?)

(We're not supposed to be punching people. What if our master finds out?)

(Who cares?) Volt chortled, (Did you hear that stupid mutt? Our master would probably laugh if we gave it a few kicks. I hate children.)

I gave him an exasperated look that questioned his blunt words. He hastily added, (I meant children who aren't you!)

(And... second staircase along. ) I muttered, shifting my gaze and ignoring his last comment. (Let's go down.)

Volt removed his hand from mine, and we walked down together, eventually reaching a metal bulkhead guarded by a human wearing armour and cradling a compact rifle in his two hands. Through his darkened visor he eyed us casually, and after a brief exchange he let us through, thumping a button by the hatch with a gloved fist to admit entry. As soon as we stepped through, the door swung to behind us.

It was a massive, concrete chamber, lit by floodlights installed in a ring with regular spacing above us, while the floor was subdivided into thirds, and each third had large hollows carved into its walls, lined with coloured wool blankets.

We'd just set foot in the red third, and already were we accosted by a pair of monsters. One of them, a mighty Garchomp, loomed over us.

(**Morsels...**) It slavered.

Volt's hand slapped my shoulder, lending me a surge of raw power which I guided into my fists, their knuckles nowhere to be seen beneath the glowing light that encapsulated them.

A combination attack Volt and I had been working on called 'Helping Hand'.

I was about to launch myself at the Garchomp's gut, when the Blaziken next two him stomped his claw foot right into my attack, sending me rolling back into Volt's arms. She crowed, (Sons of rats have little power. Birdsong thinks rats sit well in dragon-lizard's stomach.)

Volt helped me back to my feet, growling, (We've had just about enough of Pokémon trying to murder us. So 'this son of a rat' says '**get lost, or suck it**'.)

Ropes of drool were now spilling from the Garchomp's open maw. (**Morsels talk. Annoying. Feed me**.)

His jaw swung wide open, closing in to engulf us, when a blur passes in front of us. I heard a solid thud, but before I could register just what had saved us, it had already flowed around behind the Blaziken, who jumped slightly in surprise.

(I think these two account for themselves quite well, don't you?) A male voice issued coolly from the Pokémon.

(Birdsong refuses to acknowledge Test-tube-Born.) She said tersely. For a heartbeat, the two relaxed, the other Pokémon even sighing a little.

Birdsong's foot suddenly burst into flame, and she swung it round, firing a barrage of kicks into her foe. He dodged each one, trading a few punches in return, which she deftly turned aside with the back of her claws. Within the passage of five seconds, I counted twenty blows between them. And I was sure there were more.

Suddenly the Garchomp leapt into the fray, throwing himself at the unknown Pokémon, who simply leapt over the tackle with an effortless grace, before guiding the Garchomp's head to Birdsong's kicks with his own foot. The monster crumpled over, dazed, but the two ignored it.

(Perhaps you two had better come with me.) I heard a quiet voice behind me suggest. (These two don't look like they're about to let up.)

I turned around to meet the gaze of a Quilava, while Volt was still staring, dumbfounded at the mighty battle playing out before him. The Quilava was sleek and well-groomed, but for an ugly scar that ran across one milky eye, and he padded towards us with a pained stiffness.

(That would be good. We're still waiting for 'reassignment' or something, but no one wants to help. Just eat us.) I said, shivering as I realised my life was endangered only the second time today.

The Quilava smiled. ('Reassignment', huh? Then you two would belong to Jacob, same as me.)

(We don't know our master's name.) I replied, shaking my head. But I remembered his sneering face.

(Definitely one of Jacob's then. He doesn't tell any of his Pokémon his name until they reach the inner circle.) He explained. (That's us.)

(Us?) I wondered aloud, my mind trawling back to Birdsong and the dreadful Garchomp who tried to eat us.

(Hmmn? Ah yes, by that I mean the Blue Jays. You see how this room is divided into thirds? You, me and...) He peered at my friend with a curious eye.

(Volt.)

(Volt. Yes. You, me and Volt are in the Blue section, since we belong to Jacob. We look after each other as Blues, especially when it comes to those Reds.)

(So then the Pokémon fighting Birdsong is..?)

(A Blue. Yes. And the two who tried to eat you are Reds.)

(Is that why they tried to eat us?)

(I'm afraid not.) The Quilava said ruefully. (He just likes eating unfamiliar Pokémon. And since you two wandered in without a human, he decided that you were fair game.)

I stared at the Quilava, revolted at the idea that I'd almost been killed for such a stupid reason. At least something had saved us. (What is he, if you don't mind me asking? The Pokémon who helped us, I mean.)

(Ah, you won't have seen one before. He's Jaego, and you could say that he's our prize fighter. He's a Hitmonlee. The Hitmons are rather special.)

(Special?) Volt's voice drifted across to us, although he was only half-listening, his eyes still bedazzled by the displays of martial prowess between Jaego and Birdsong. The Quilava continued his explanation regardless.

(They are a breed of Pokémon created by humans to be good fighters. He was born a fighter, and our master Jacob went to great lengths to buy him.)

(And Jacob is our master?)

(That's right. You made it this far, so I imagine he has something planned for you two. You're both Electric-types, and he hasn't had any of those for a while. He collects strong examples of different types to train for battle, you see. Perhaps you'd like to meet them?)

He nodded towards the blue third, and I trotted alongside him, Volt trailing along after us, still fixated on the fight.

(By the way, I'm Rain.) I introduced myself. (I'd offer my hand, but...)

(But I can't shake it.) The Quilava chuckled. (It's okay, I'm flattered regardless. You may call me Chark. I'm the resident Fire-type, although I'm something of a reserve, due to multiple stress fractures across my limbs. It hurts to move at speeds beyond walking.)

(I'm sorry.)

(Don't worry about it. By the way, in case you're wondering, the red Pokémon belong to Jacob's older brother, and the green third,) He tilted his head towards a section of ground where Birdsong and Jaego had now carried their fight, with passing interest paid by a dozing Slaking, (belongs to Jacob's father. They generally keep to themselves.)

We found ourselves at the nest of hollows in the blue third. In the first hollow was a pile of miscellaneous feathers, upon which we could see a Gabite.

It had similar markings to the Garchomp, but its eyes betrayed a cleverer and crueler light. Above its bed was carved 'Snarl', said Chark, for that was his name, and in the next hollow along, in a bed of hay lay a Swanna, who constantly fidgeted and preened, regarding our scruffy presence with disdain.

(The Swanna is called Opal. He doesn't like new people very much, so steer clear of him. The next two cots belong to myself and Zorro, who's often out helping his master hunt for new Pokémon.)

Zorro's cot was notably empty.

In the second-to-last bunk we saw a white, hound-like Pokémon resting on a bed of soft, fluffy pillows, some of which had the corners gnawed off. She was curled up, and we couldn't see her head.

(Sheikru!) Chark called to her. (We've got two more Blues. Meet Rain and Volt!)

She lifted her head to look at us with sharp, red eyes. An Absol, I thought to myself, although the horn on her head had been shorn off, leaving a rough stump. She gave us a nod, then rested her head back on the pillows.

(And that's the crew. I can help you guys get settled in at the end cot. There's a bathroom outside the vault which we can use, and we can pretty much come and go in the mansion as we please, so long as we don't disturb anybody, except when the Blakes have visitors. Is there anything either of you want to know?)

Volt tore his eyes away from the fight to ask, (Yeah, why are our masters doing all this to us?)

Chark blinked, thinking for a moment before deciding on an answer, (Because Jacob wants to be a Pokémon Master, and for that, he needs the best. So he looks for Pokémon with prime potential, like us, catches us, and puts us through the selection process you just escaped before turning us in to the most powerful fighters he can make us.)

(So how did he 'find' us in the first place?)

(You'd rather not know,) Chark sighed, but I could see his eye settling on Sheikru, and the waver of regret in his voice. I would have no idea of the scale of that regret for many more months to come.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Metal scraped against concrete, the sound stabbing into my drowsy brain, My eyes opened, my head edging round to look at the doorway, where I saw an old Magnezone hover, supporting several trays around it with shaky, rather unreliable magnetic fields, carefully, it set these trays down on each of the thirds, coming close enough that I could hear the chug and whirr of its faulty organs.

Chark was already hobbling over to the nearest tray, and began tugging it with his teeth well into the blue zone, or at least away from the reds. He was halfway done when the floodlights came on, glaring into my eyes before they could adjust to the light. Some of the other Pokémon began to stir, and I could see Opal the Swanna darting over to the red's trays, just about to filch some slices of apple when suddenly Birdsong loomed over him to send him scurrying back with an infuriated caw.

I crawled out of the hollow, and heard Volt yawn behind me as I made a stiff meander towards the food. I noticed that no one was touching the green's food, even though none of the green zone Pokémon had bothered to get up yet.

I was just about to take an orange, when a white paw stamped down in front of me. (You stealin' Jaego's food?)

(Stealing whose food?) I shrunk back, not entirely sure what I'd done wrong.

Then I heard someone say, (Who's stealing my food?) It was Jaego.

(It's the new kid!)

Jaego strode up to me, his great eyes forming an accusatory stare. (You stealing my food?)

(I'm sorry!)

The Hitmonlee's eyes softened. (Nah, it's fine.) He chuckled. (Sheikru, I'm stealing your apricots.)

Sheikru gave a wounded howl, chasing after Jaego as he snatched a pair of apricots from the tray. He sprinted around the room, hounded by the Absol who made a few leaps to try and steal the fruit back between her teeth.

I still had no idea what went on in that exchange, so I just picked up the apple and tore a few chunks of with my canines to chew on. Chark gave me a wink, saying, (They do that to new Pokémon sometimes. We each have our favourite food, but we're find with sharing.) He picked up a piece of pink meat, and added through his mouthful, (You might want to stay away from the fruit sometimes. It's the only kind of food that Jaego can eat. Try some of the Spoink ham sometime. You Pichu are known to be omnivorous, so it should be alright.)

Giving a nod, I quickly wolfed down one half of the apple, and gave it the starving Volt, who'd just joined us, before moving onto the slices of pink meat offered by Chark. It was tender and slimy, its taste a little salty, but at the same time rather satisfying. I was most of my way through it before Chark pointed out to me that we were supposed to be sharing.

(Sorry, ) I apologised, (I'm still a little used to eating before someone steals my meal.)

(No need to worry about that here. Jacob needs us all to be well fed, so everyone makes sure everyone else gets their share.)

The door opened again, and I heard someone skip into the room.

"Good morning, everyone!" A little girl cried, and I saw her skip over to Jaego, who by then had given up being chased by Sheikru, and had let her have her fruit back. "Hey Mister Hitmonlee! You having a good morning?"

(You bet!) Jaego said enthusiastically, giving a thumbs-up so that the little girl understood heard a little dog yap from the doorway, followed by Rosie the Lillipup traipsed into the room.

She leaped and yelped at Jaego in an attempt to catch his attention, but he firmly ignored her, focusing his attention on the little girl. So instead she galloped over to us. I heard Volt mutter an obscenity behind me.

Snarl the Gabite, seeing her approach, took a ball of yarn from his nest and chucked it in Rosie's general direction, making her completely lose interest in all the other Pokémon in the room as she started toying with it.

From the grimace Snarl gave out of the corner of my eye, I decided that not many other Pokémon thought much of Rosie's company.

We finished breakfast together in this way, with Opal plucking bits of bread from a few slices, while Snarl and Sheikru sunk their teeth into large hunks of meat. Jaego played with the little girl, who was revealed as Melanie Blake, and Chark, Volt and I ate what was left on the tray, making sure to leave some fruit for Jaego.

We were soon joined by a human woman in a dress, a tall, elegant lady considered beautiful by human standards. Many of the Pokémon went to greet her, and she knew them each by name. Even Jaego gave her a respectful bow. Melanie joined her, calling the woman Mother, and pleaded with her about something, tugging at her dress.

The lady gave a smile, and Melanie ran over to us, taking Volt into her arms and stroking him. The lady came over and sat down on a cushion hastily provided by Jaego. She patted each of us in turn, hand-feeding Chark a block of some strange food.

She gave some of the food to Volt and I. It was spongy, its surface moist with the juices of exotic fruit. "You two are new," She said with a soft, harmonious voice, "I wonder what you're called."

"I want to play with them!" grinned Melanie. "I want to make Jacob's Minun cute."

"Okay, I'll tell Jacob. Meanwhile you, young Pichu," the woman stroked me under the chin, "are in need of a bath."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Bubbles floated all about me. The warm water, like giant's hands, massaged my tired limbs and soothed sifted through my dirty fur. My back arched as a brush ran down it, combing flecks of dried blood away.

The lady had been bathing me for the past half-hour. Old wounds had ointment rubbed into them and were plastered over, and my fur was clipped shorter and neater. She seemed to enjoy it.

For me, it felt wonderful in so many ways. It was as if I had been reborn. I had been given a new life, with new friends, and perhaps my new masters might be good people after all.

I looked over at a tome that lay beside the bath. Its cover had strange markings inked onto it. I slipped out of the lady's grasp and reached the tome, opening it with a wet paw. The lady looked over.

"It's a book, Chu-Chu." That was her nickname for me. "I can teach you how to read, if you want."

I pulled the book over to me, trying to make sense of the mess of sigils on the page. I'd heard that humans could read these, but I wasn't sure where to start, my finger simply tracing a squiggle over the page as I tried to decide where to look first. The lady's hand, manicured, and nails painted in crimson, directed my hand to the top-left corner of the page.

"The first word is 'once', Chu-Chu. It means that an event occurred at a single point in the past. But perhaps before we start on words, we'd better start with the different letters. I'll teach you a little song to help you. Just don't tell Jacob I'm doing this for you."

(Thanks.) I jumped onto her front and put my arms around her neck. Her chest resonated, her voice picking up a beautiful note. My head tucked under her chin, I listened as she sung:

"A, B, C, D, E, F, G..."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

_**Death not future-proof, finds unidentified Sandslash**_

_Today, the body of a Sandslash was found under mysterious circumstances. Its body was mutilated, its claws removed forcefully and its heart cut out of its body in the midst of some kind of strange blood ritual._

_The blood found was identified as belonging to Pokémon other then the Sandslash, believed to belong to several exsanguinated wild Pokémon found nearby._

_The Sandslash is believed to belong to a trainer, due to the removal of a tracking chip from its neck, but nobody has reported having a missing Sandslash. Examination of the nature of the ritual has led investigators to believe that the Sandslash was attempting to read the future._

_But it appears that it was too late to predict its own demise._

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

**And that's the chapter! This chapter marks the first true divergence from the plot of Pokémon Trainer.**

**To those who didn't read Pokémon Trainer, Jacob's family were only mentioned in passing, but in this story I'm hoping they'll play more of an active role. Also, Volt's character is new to the action, but he'll be playing an important role in the chapters to come.**

**In any case, I hope you enjoyed the chapter~!**

**~Cappy**

**P.S. Yes, I'll be bumping this fic up to M in future.**


End file.
